


Solve the Ancient Mystery

by Arithanas



Category: Scooby Doo! Mystery Incorporated (TV 2010)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 20:15:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8415169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arithanas/pseuds/Arithanas
Summary: Because there is no better way to spend a lazy night with a dear friend.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Metal_Chocobo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Metal_Chocobo/gifts).



It was a cold night and they had the house just for themselves. In those rare circumstance there was only one thing to do and experience had taught Velma Dinkley that Marcie Fleach was a willing ―even an enthusiastic― accomplice to her plans of the evening.

With a bowl full of popcorn generously dosed with cheese powder, Velma tossed one throw pillow in front of the sofa and dimmed the lights in the room.

“Are we going to have a 'solve the ancient mystery' night, V.?” Marcie called as she entered the room. The aroma of popcorn might have alerted her.

Velma nodded and tossed another pillow to the floor. She loved the way Marcie can pick up even the most banal clues, like the smell of homemade cheesy popcorn.

“So, what’s going to be?” Marcie brought a blanket to keep them warm. “A Victorian murder? A wild west robbery?”

“We will have a double feature tonight,” Velma promised as she sit and folded her skirt, “this ancient mystery is one for the ages.”

“Promises!” Marcie was quick to sit by Velma’s side. “Bring that ancient mystery along and let us solve it.”

Velma passed her arm behind Marcie’s neck and flashed her cellphone.

“Let us start in the Year of our Lord 1278. The legend told that old goody Ferne le Horsmongere invited a half dozen of her friends to eat together for Michelmas holiday.”

“You really took an ancient mystery this time…”

“To make the fun last longer,” Velma admitted and scrolled down the screen. “Popcorn, please.”

Marcie extended her hand and picked some popcorn before she feed it to Velma. Once it was properly consumed, Marcie drew the blanket around them and rested her head in Velma’s shoulder to watch the screen better.

“After Mass, Ferne le Horsmongere and her friends sat around the table to have their meal. The next person to see them was Geoffrey Singalday, husband of one of the women…”

“Such were the crosses women must bear in those days of yore,” Marcie commented between bites.

“Records say that Geoffrey Singalday found seven dead bodies around the table. They showed no wounds or signs of violence. On the table, there was a silver kettle, seven cups and bannock with honey and some late summer apples.”

“Quite a feast!”

“For their time, it was.” Velma put the cellular phone down and picked up a handful of popcorn. “Townsfolk believed Geoffrey Singalday killed the women.”

“No good deed goes unpunished.”

“Indeed. He was hung by the neck until he died.”

“Yikes!”

Velma waited patiently as the full realization of the mystery became apparent. Marcie played with her hair and ate popcorn, and Velma enjoyed the way her friend got lost inside her own brain, trying to fit the pieces together by dint of her massive intellect.

“Seven victims, all women.” Marcie muttered to herself, playing with the end of her hair. “Are we talking poison?”

“The story reports no poison or venom, but old stories usually doesn’t abound in details.”

“There is one thing that bugs me more.” Marcie bit her lip with a nervous gesture. “What’s a kettle doing on a table? Tea culture in England didn’t begin until the 17th century.”

Marcie stopped talking and pushed her glasses over the top of her nose. Velma loved the way Marcie’s nose twitched when she was chasing and idea.

“Moreover, silver is such a strange metal to use in that period. I certainly doubt a poor woman would be the owner of such an expensive item…”

“All of those are valid points.”

“Uhm… We could be talking about a _ketill_ or _chetel_ … You know, it could be a cauldron. The story accused any of the women of witchcraft?”

“This account does not record any allegation of witchcraft.”

“I need to think about it, V., but you said this was a double feature. Tell me the other story.”

“The year is 1875, in the town of Bannack, Montana, seven women were found dead during one session of the local quilting bee. All of them were sitting around a table, without any sign of violence.”

“Let me guess, there was a silver kettle on the table.”

“At the center of the table, with scones and honey.”

“Too much for a coincidence.”

“The coincidence was the date: September 29th, 1875.”

“Michelmas.”

“Uh–huh.” Marcie’s affirmation caught Velma with the mouth filled with popcorn.

“I assume there was no allegation of witchcraft here either.”

“And there was no execution of any innocent man either”

Marcie scowled and snorted. Velma chose to not challenge that display of derision.

“This one has some articles from local newspapers.”

“We have no witnesses.”

“At least none alive.”

Marcie knelt on the rug and started to count with her fingers. “At least we have the following: seven women, which might carry some meaning; the silver kettle, thought maybe we should take ‘kettle’ as any small bowl to prepare food; bread without yeast and honey; the date, and zero violence.”

“So, what do you propose?”

“Well, we can talk to witnesses. Then, the only possible way to test our theories is to find a mix of natural condiments or herbs that could get mix together by accident and produce an adequate amount of toxins to kill a grown woman.”

“Aren’t you forgetting the silver kettle and the effect it could bring to the mixture of elements?”

Velma smiled to her friend as if she wanted to point Marci overlooked an important cue.

“We have silver spoons, don’t we? All we need to do now is to measure in smaller quantities-”

“I love your brain.”

Before Marcie had a second to form a reaction to the compliment, Velma lean forward and kissed her friend softly on the cheek, with her hand cupping her face.

“So, can we proceed to the experiment?” Marcie asked, brushing aside a lock of her hair to cover the fact that she was blushing.

“I’ll bring the chemistry set!”

“I’ll ransack the kitchen!”

Marcie ran to the door, and Velma enjoyed her childish glee at the experiment.

“That's my girl!” Velma quipped to herself as she rose from their pillow nest.


End file.
